


Farvel

by LadyLokianna



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 13:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLokianna/pseuds/LadyLokianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"God reise." murmured Flare, before bending down and giving a kiss to Hagen. "God reise, min kjærlighet."<br/>A short One-Shot, focused mainly on Freya and her romance with Hagen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farvel

 

_Farvel_

 

Snow.  
_Snow_ , and _wind,_ and _cold_.  
The same cold that now, she felt inside, deep in her soul.  
She didn't want to attend their funerals.  
She wouldn't be able to see the man she loved slowly disappear into the fire, on the funeral pyre that wouldn't have left anything of him, not even his bones.  
   
_"Thus he established by law that all dead men should be burned, and their belongings laid with them upon the pile, and the ashes be cast into the sea or buried in the earth. Thus, said he, everyone will come to Valhalla with the riches he had_  
_with him upon the pile; and he would also enjoy whatever he himself had buried in the earth. For men of consequence a mound should be raised to their memory, and for all other warriors who had been distinguished for manhood a standing stone..."_  
   
So the great Odin had decided, and so it had always been, since the dawn of time.  
And so it was, in those days, in Asgard.  
Eight funeral pyres were been builted in honor of the eight men killed in battle by the hands of a selfish and evil God.  
Thor, Fenrir, Alberich, Syd and Bud, Meem, Siegfried, and his loved Hagen.  
All died for duty, all gone, to defend their beloved Asgard from the enemy.  
But who was the _real_ enemy? Athena's Saints, or the evil Poseidon?  
   
"The time is come, my Lady."  
Flare didn't even turn in her direction.  
"Go, Jóreiðr." said Freya, dismissing one of her lady-in-waiting. "I'm not yet ready."  
She would ever been ready?  
   
Freya grabbed the long black veil that  was laying on the chair, the same that she would wear for the funerals, in sign of mourning, and walked rapidly out of her room.  
   
*  
   
Near the river, the whole court and every single citizen were waiting for the beginning of the funerals: on each pyre, each warrior was dressed with the proper vestments of his own rank, with his objects, and with the gifts received for that baleful day.  
Aboard Siegfried's pyre, waiting like the others seven to be launched, Hilda, totally careless of the ceremonial, was bent over his body.  
"It was all my fault." she murmured, stroking the head of _her_ warrior. "I'm so sorry, Siegfried. It was all my fault. I was so blind and so stupid. And you've payed for my stupidity... forgive me."  
"I'm sorry, my Lady." said Jóreiðr, interrupting her.  
"Where's my sister?"  
" _She_... uh... my Lady, I'm really sorry. We cannot find her."  
She raises up immediately, worried.  
"What do you mean with that?!"  
   
*  
   
She had never really saw Asgard.  
As the young sister of the Odin's representative, she had never had a chance to observe the world outside the castle as she wanted.  
And here it is, Asgard.  
Snow. Wind. Cold.  
She walked over to the battlements of the tower, touching the cold stone and looked toward the shore, where the eight funeral pyre were ready to be launched.  
Once, she heard of a forbidden ritual in faraway India, where widows throws themselves on the funeral pyre of their husbands.  
Maybe...  
She and Hagen were not married. They were betrothed, but not yet married.  
"I'm not ready to leave you."  
Freya looked at her left hand, where long ago Hagen put two gold rings - one on the finger ring and one on the thumb, as a pledge of their love.  
_"Could you keep them both? When the time comes and i'll be worthy of you, I will come to take mine."_  
_I'm not ready..._  
Then, she leaned over, looking down…  
   
Hilda and Jóreiðr arrived breathless at Freya's chambers, finding it empty.  
"Where is she?" she asked, wandering around the room. "How long did you leave her alone?"  
The girl bowed her head.  
"Long before i came for your help."  
" _You fool!_ You should have warned me immediately!" cried Hilda, running to the window, ready to raise the alarm, and then, finally, she saw her.  
Freya, poised on the ledge of the tower.  
"For Odin's sake!"  
Freya adjusted the black veil on her head, then smoothed some folds of the heavy black velvet dress, and closed her eyes.  
"Freya!" cried Hilda, running faster than Sleipnir. "Freya, for all Æsir, what the... come down from there, please."  
"You don't feel nothing?" replied Freya.  
" _What?_ "  
"You don't feel nothing? For Siegfried, for his death ... _nothing?_ "  
"This is no time to talk about it, Freya. Come down from there, we talk about it later, calmly."  
Hilda began to hear the people, crowded by the river to give the last farewell to their warriors, start screaming worried about Freya.  
"You know, Hilda ... in India there was a special ritual ..." began to say Freya, as if in a trance.  
Hilda took a step toward her.  
"Freya, you're upset, come down."  
Two more steps toward her.  
"... in which widows committed suicide on the funeral pyre of their husbands ..."  
Hilda, with the last step, was close to her sister.  
"Follow me, please. He surely wouldn't want to see you like this."  
Of course. Hagen's projects were _definitely_ different from those.  
"But he's gone, _and he cannot see anything more_."  
"Freya... Hagen is gone... Siegfried is gone... our warriors are all gone... but... but they fought for us, for our Asgard, to give us a future... _to give you_ a future. Don't throw everything to the winds. You have to leave the past behind you, to have a future... " and finally she was able to grab her hand, and didn't let go it until Freya did not come down from the ledge.

  
Each boat bore rich carvings, runic inscriptions and rich capes for the honorable warriors.  
Freya approached Hagen, she took off one of the two rings and put it on his finger.  
" _God reise_." murmured Flare, before bending down and giving a kiss to Hagen. " _God reise, min kjærlighet_."  


**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Freya, Hilda, and the God Warriors are property of Masami  
> Kurumada, and this fic was not written for profit.  
> Hope you enjoyed the reading!  
> Farvel is the norwegian for farewell, according to [ this page](https://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Norwegian/Useful_Expressions), and, _god reise min kjærlighet_  
>  it should mean _bon voyage, my love._ I hope it's  
>  right.  
> At the beginning there's an excerpt from Snorri Sturluson's _[Ynglinga Saga](http://omacl.org/Heimskringla/ynglinga.html)_.
> 
>  


End file.
